


The Meaning in Our Space

by untilitbreaks



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Brief Discussion of Mental Illness, Coming of Age, M/M, Poorly done research on Japanese prefectures, Running Away, Self-Discovery, im so sorry kitty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 19:59:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13395165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untilitbreaks/pseuds/untilitbreaks
Summary: Yahaba's only eighteen, but it's not too early for him to feel like his time is running out. When he finds out that he's not as alone as he'd once believed himself to be, he makes a last-ditch attempt to regain lost time and turn things around for good, even if he has to take more drastic measures than he's ever dreamed of.





	1. Miyagi

Yahaba ran.

He ran until his lungs hurt, both from exertion and inhalation of the frigid air. He ran until his head hurt, until all he could hear was the wind, and the sound of his own breathing when he closed his eyes. He ran with no restraint, like he hadn’t in so long, so long he couldn’t even begin to put a timeframe on it. It had taken weeks of planning, weeks of buildup to this moment, but Yahaba had known as soon as he'd stepped foot out of his house and into freedom that this feeling was one to which he belonged.

Back at Seijoh, Oikawa had never permitted them to run like this, even when they had a valid excuse for it. Yahaba had always wanted to get away, just for a moment, but Oikawa had always held him back. He said that it wasn’t good to strain oneself that way, because it wasn’t worth it to throw away a dream for a moment of freedom. Yahaba had never said it out loud, but he’d always believed that a dream was useless if it didn’t involve freedom. Even worse, Yahaba had carried on Oikawa’s legacy and reputation, and had taught his juniors no better. He'd realized, then, what Oikawa, his mentor and one of his dearest friends, had gone through, and he'd realized then that he'd only continued to trap himself.

It was funny how different it was now. Ideally, Yahaba like to think that it was because he was giving up his old life, at least temporary. He knew that whatever he did from now on would define him from now on. Simply making the choice to get this far meant something, something that Yahaba wouldn’t turn back from even when his courage failed him, something that Yahaba _couldn’t_ turn back from.

There was no going back now, not after all the careful planning they’d put into this. Not after the sacrifices they’d made, not after Kyoutani had summoned up the patience to deal with Yahaba,

Yahaba didn't slow down his pace when it hurt. He wanted it to hurt. It felt good when it hurt. It made him feel human, and that was what he was searching for—at least part of it. Kyoutani had told him that he'd need to push himself farther than he could ever imagine if he wanted to reach his goal, although he hadn't even bothered to ask Yahaba what he wanted. Yahaba had originally been offended by this, but at that point he hadn't known Kyoutani well, and he hadn't known the lengths a person had to go to survive.

Yahaba had promised Kyoutani that he’d meet him in the back parking lot of a fast food place, which was typical of Kyoutani. It was a shame, because he wasn’t really not a bad person underneath all of his anger, but Yahaba was halfway certain he’d seen drug deals in this parking lot and he hoped that Kyoutani hadn’t gotten involved. 

Unsurprisingly, Kyoutani had arrived before Yahaba. He was leaning against the wall, eating something unidentifiable. When he saw Yahaba, he angrily—because that was the only way Yahaba could describe the majority of his actions—crumpled up the wrapper and stuffed it in his jacket pocket.

“Took you long enough to get here,” Kyoutani grumbled, looking somewhere off to Yahaba’s right. “I’m not going to bother to ask why.”

“I ran,” Yahaba said breathlessly. 

Whatever Kyoutani said out of disapproval, he’d disregard. He was running on pure adrenaline, and felt like he could easily keep going for hours at whatever pace Kyoutani chose. They had to keep moving at all times, right?

Kyoutani grunted, surveying Yahaba’s disheveled appearance. “I can see that,” he said. He turned away impatiently. “A waste of energy, if you ask me. We’re going to be walking for the next week.”

_He’ll come around eventually._

“Did you eat this morning?” Kyoutani asked, still turned away. He began leading the way out of the parking lot, sticking close to the side of the building. Yahaba followed uncertainly, trailing behind him a few feet away.

“I mean… A little. I’m fine. I don’t need to.”

“Good. We shouldn’t be traveling in the middle of the day, so we won’t stop,” Kyoutani said. He glanced over his shoulder at Yahaba, briefly. “Unless you feel like you’re dying, because I don’t feel like carrying you around because you can’t take care of yourself.”

Yahaba had almost appreciated the sentiment. He should have known that Kyoutani was only interested for his own benefit, although a part of him still wanted to believe that Kyoutani had to care, at least a little bit more than he’d like to admit, if he’d been generous enough to allow Yahaba to accompany him now. 

Claiming that he could take care of himself, while true, would just be rising to the bait. “I don’t eat much anyway,” he said, and he couldn’t help but think about how often he’d chided Kunimi for skipping meals as often as he did.

“Did you sleep at all last night, then? You don’t look it.”

As much as Yahaba wanted to argue back at Kyoutani for the remark, he knew better than that. Miraculously, they’d progressed beyond petty arguments in the past year, and Yahaba was sure that Kyoutani wouldn’t be happy with him if he tried to pick a fight now. Instead, he said, “Well… not really. But I’m not feeling it, and I pull all nighters for tests all the time.”

Kyoutani also probably had a point about Yahaba’s appearance, because he’d woken up later than he’d wanted to (due to staying awake much later than he should have, and then mulling over their plan over in his head for hours before falling asleep) and he’d rushed out of his house as quickly and as quietly as possible.

Kyoutani snorted derisively. “You’ll regret that later.”

“Sure I will, but are you going to do anything about it?”

“Don’t think so highly of yourself.”

Kyoutani crossed the street with brisk strides, without looking to see if any cars were coming. Yahaba wasn’t sure if he had some kind of sixth sense, knew the streets well, or had a death wish.

Their plan was simple: meet up and run. They didn’t have destination in mind, but Kyoutani said that planning a route, or even a destination at all, would only get them caught faster. Yahaba had asked him about his wording, and he explained that they would get caught eventually—they’d get caught or they’d go back themselves, but they couldn’t hide forever. The very idea of this had terrified Yahaba, but Kyoutani hadn’t seemed bothered, and Yahaba had no choice but to go along with what he wanted. Maybe Kyoutani was just trying to act cool, or maybe not, but he knew more than Yahaba about the subject of running regardless.

Only, Yahaba didn’t want to think about it that way. He wasn’t _running._ Running away was for people who had terrible families, or needed to get away from something. Running away meant that one wasn’t coming back, or didn’t plan on coming back—Kyoutani would say that they’d get caught anyway, eventually. But they weren’t running away forever. Yahaba didn’t hate his family, and he didn’t _need_ to get away from something.

One day soon they’d return, and Yahaba would go back to his old life like nothing had happened, as naive a thought as that may seem. He only wanted to get away for a moment in time, to change things up, and to throw all caution to the wind one time before graduation; he wanted to be free one last time before he was sent away to university and then thrown into the world for real.

He hadn’t explained any of this to Kyoutani. He assumed that Kyoutani knew, because he couldn’t think of very many other reasons for why he wanted to do something so drastic. He hadn’t asked Kyoutani why he’d wanted to run, and he had faith that Kyoutani wouldn’t bother him about it, either. There were unspoken rules between them, now, and Yahaba couldn’t imagine breaking them, or the fragile trust they’d built between each other over the past few months out of pure necessity.

“How cold is it going to be?” Yahaba asked, speaking quietly even though they were fundamentally alone, walking streets that were normally busy so early in the morning. 

“Cold,” Kyoutani said simply. A car whizzed by and he glared at it. “I hope you brought more than that jacket. We’re going to be out in the open and I wouldn’t trust motel heating systems.”

Yahaba winced and didn’t reply, although Kyoutani probably saw the action and knew that he was guilty of not packing appropriately. Yahaba could make all the excuses he wanted for it, but Kyoutani wouldn’t take any of them.

Kyoutani walked stiffly until they were far away from the main roads, although it was only a fifteen minute walk and a much shorter run. It was unlikely that Seijoh students would be far away from the school, but they were only walking back in the direction that Yahaba had come from. Yahaba had known that Kyoutani had a rough idea of the fastest way out of Miyagi, but he hadn’t counted on Kyoutani diligently following the route that led them straight past Yahaba’s house. 

“What’s your plan?” Yahaba asked eventually, lengthening his stride to keep up with Kyoutani’s shorter, but much quicker ones. He hadn’t discussed with Kyoutani what they were going to do immediately after meeting up. He’d known that whatever he suggested would be ignored in favor of whatever Kyoutani decided on.

“We’re going to walk to the train station,” Kyoutani said matter-of-factly. Yahaba tried not to act surprised—not at what Kyoutani was saying, but because he hadn’t expected him to answer at all. “And we’re going to board, and we’re going to seem inconspicuous. The moment one of us gets a text asking where we are, we get off, and we run. Do you remember what we talked about?”

Nobody would be texting Kyoutani asking where he was, he said, not for a while. But Yahaba had connections with the volleyball club, and with other friends, and even if his parents disregarded his absence first thing in the morning, they’d realize very early on that he wasn’t coming back. Kyoutani had said that it was better not to carry a phone at all, for tracking purposes, but Yahaba had promised that he shut it down completely after the first day, when nobody was searching seriously, and that he wouldn’t respond to anyone. Kyoutani knew that leaving people in the dark would kill him, but they didn’t have a choice. 

There were many rules that Kyoutani had imposed upon him, but that was the one that had stuck out most to him. Pack lightly, don’t wear anything that could be used to identify where you came from, bring water, and don’t bring perishable food products if any. Those all made sense. Trying so hard not to be caught by staying far out of touch of the rest of the world felt pitifully unnatural.

Yahaba nodded. “Good,” Kyoutani said, and then was silent.

Yahaba wanted to run far, far away. The cold air bit at his lungs and pierced through his layers, but he felt more alive and free than he ever had before. His trust in Kyoutani was thrilling, more than it should be, built on pure adrenaline and becoming more personalized than save.

It didn't feel real, to run, but this was the first step.


	2. Miyagi

Snow had begun to fall by the time they reached Yahaba’s house.

It was the second snow of the season, and presumably largely unexpected by the radars due to the small amount that seemed likely to fall. Kyoutani said nothing about it, but Yahaba could tell that he wasn’t happy. Yahaba supposed that he’d be more upset about it, too, if he was the one really responsible for the two of them. 

Yahaba knew that Kyoutani was fully aware of where Yahaba lived, but highly doubted that their path brought him back there as a test. Kyoutani wouldn’t go out of his way to see if Yahaba was mentally capable of running or not, especially not in the beginning when every move they made was a deciding factor in whether or not they would make it down south. They probably had about six hours before somebody noticed their disappearance, and maybe twelve hours before someone realized that they weren’t coming home. Yahaba hoped to be long gone by then, but he didn’t want to think about how his parents would feel, because there was no way that he could possibly justify his actions. 

Ideally, Yahaba wanted to give them some sort of sign—he wanted to let them know, at least, that he was safe and wasn’t too far away, and maybe even that he was coming back. But Kyoutani would never permit that, and he’d definitely hear about it somehow if Yahaba tried. He wasn’t stupid, and he’d never forgive Yahaba for it, not when this was for both of them and Yahaba’s actions reflected on him. Yahaba had to be careful about which rules of Kyoutani’s he did respect, because this was just as important to Kyoutani as it was to him, and he knew that he wasn’t going anywhere if he stopped listening to him. 

From this distance, Yahaba could see his house relatively clearly. It was too dark to make out the details, and it was too early for there to be lights on. Even though it was a short distance away, the few yards separating Yahaba and the sidewalk had the magnitude of miles. He glanced at it out of the corner of his eye, steeled his nerves, and tore his gaze away before Kyoutani could notice.

_My parents raised me from the moment I was born. They love me unconditionally, and I’m leaving them to think I’m missing. I could be dead, I could have run, I could be anywhere, and they won’t know until we come home. It’s going to be a living nightmare for them, and I’m going to enjoy every second of being away… At least, that’s the goal of it. I can’t see myself doing that if I think of them._

“You already said your goodbyes,” Kyoutani said gruffly. “Do you want to get caught by hanging around here?”

Kyoutani had a point. Yahaba had been saying his goodbyes for months, even though they hadn’t had this planned for as long. Ever since Yahaba had started thinking of the future, of going away for university, he’d been mentally preparing himself for the day in which he had to leave. But ever since Yahaba had starting thinking of running, things had changed. Everything seemed so final, like he wasn’t sure if he was coming back or not, which terrified Yahaba. But he’d said his goodbyes regardless—he’d enjoyed every last moment he’d had at home, and he’d made sure that everything would be set for his leaving. He’d ingrained the scent and feel of home in his mind in hopes that it would draw him back later, now and later on in life.

Yahaba had always figured that if he left once, and went far away, it would be easier to leave for school.

“No,” Yahaba murmured. “No, I don’t.”

Kyoutani nodded shortly. Yahaba couldn’t bring himself to continue looking at him.

Yahaba hadn’t said any verbal goodbyes, As far as he was aware—and both he and Kyoutani had been exceptionally careful—he hadn’t given anyone even the faintest idea that he was planning on running. He and Kyoutani had made little changes ever since they’d gotten serious about it, ones that nobody would have noticed unless they were looking for it, and still would not have thought them strange if they had. Yahaba stopped taking the bus to school—he walked—and skipped lunches when he could to save money. He’d been incredibly stingy in the past few months, and had been more on top of things than ever in an attempt to set everything up so that they could leave without more problems to worry about for when they returned.

Yahaba couldn’t remember the exact date at which Kyoutani had hinted to Yahaba that he wanted to get away. Yahaba was sure that, if he hadn’t kept nagging him, Kyoutani never would have explained himself, or had even gotten serious about the idea himself. “You’re joking,” Kyoutani had scoffed, once Yahaba had enthusiastically begged him to allow him to join him. “A pretty boy like you wouldn’t last two minutes on the run.”

“‘On the run,’” Yahaba had said mockingly, in a terrible impersonation of Kyoutani’s voice. “You say that like you’re a criminal, Kyoutani.”

He hadn’t stopped to wonder if maybe this wasn’t a terribly inaccurate assumption after all.

Kyoutani had started to believe him when Yahaba had asked him how often he dyed his hair. He’d told Yahaba then that you didn’t need a disguise when you ran, not after you’d gotten away and not until people named a reward for finding you, not if you were only running for a week or two before giving yourself up. Kyoutani had never seen so blatant around Yahaba, and from that moment on, Yahaba had been insistent on getting in on Kyoutani’s plans. He’d badgered him from then on out, and if Yahaba had thought that Kyoutani had been a short temper before, he hadn’t had any idea that how he’d been acting then was practically patient to how he’d become when Yahaba had asked him, for the third time in a week, if he was going to get a job to save up enough money.

Yahaba’s questions weren’t what had made Kyoutani agree. It was the reasons he gave him.

“My parents won't miss me,” he'd said at first. Kyoutani had responded, “If you're still thinking about that, you're not ready.” Yahaba hadn't thought about that much. It had been a lie, anyway. He wondered if Kyoutani had seen through that, or if there was something else behind it.

“I won't bother you. You're in charge,” Yahaba had insisted one day after practice. Kyoutani had slammed his locker shut and had shouted at Yahaba until he was red in the face, angry for seemingly unrelated reasons. Yahaba suspected that he'd stepped on a land mine with that one. Kyoutani knew he was in charge, anyway—he'd later earned Yahaba’s undivided attention in many subjects.

“I want to see the world before I'm trapped here until I can do it properly,” had been Yahaba’s next plea. Kyoutani had been unexpectedly quiet, this time. Eventually, once Yahaba had followed him around for an hour waiting for a response, he'd said, “You won’t be seeing much if you’re trying to run away.”

Kyoutani hadn't paid Yahaba any real attention until he'd said, one day, after the third years had compared university application essays, “I'm missing something, and I can't search for it here.”

Nobody questioned them now when they boarded the train, although Kyoutani pulled the brim of his hat—Yahaba had thought that he looked stupid in one, but he knew that Kyoutani would get mad at him if he said that, because it was supposedly supposed to work as a decent disguise—down lower when he’d paid for their tickets. Kyoutani had herded Yahaba into an empty car, which hadn’t been hard to find due to the early hour, and they sat together in a corner. Yahaba took the window seat, and while this excited him, he was sure that Kyoutani had a reason for letting him take it.

That, or he simply didn’t care, which was probably more likely, all things considered. 

Not much time had passed, but it was enough to set both Kyoutani and Yahaba on edge, in very different stages of anxiety. Yahaba checked his phone for the time, but that only made him feel worse, although he knew that he had to have faith in their (rough) plan if they were actually to go anywhere.

Yahaba ended up making a large show of turning his phone off and tucking it away carefully, having seen Kyoutani scowl at it, despite the fact that he knew that Kyoutani had his own phone on him. Yahaba had no doubts that, if he asked, Kyoutani would easily be able to come up with an excuse as to why he should be allowed to keep his, and Yahaba should not, as Kyoutani did with most things.

Yahaba hated to admit that, with most things, Kyoutani did seem to have a point.

Yahaba sighed to himself, pulling his bag out from behind him and putting it upright against the wall so that he could cross his arms over it and use it as a pillow. He hadn’t planned on sleeping, not when he was so high strung, but he hadn’t brought anything to do, knowing that Kyoutani would critique him for it, and he wasn’t touching his phone. He’d planned to enjoy the scenery, he supposed, but it was dark out and there was no way he’d be able to relax enough for that. Frustrated at the thought of this, Yahaba looked up at Kyoutani to see what he was doing, only to find him looking down at him carefully.

“What’d you bring?” Kyoutani asked suspiciously, pointing to Yahaba’s small, but clearly overstuffed backpack. “You’re going to have to carry that around the whole time. You’re not going to want to.”

“I know that,” Yahaba said through gritted teeth. “I brought what you told me to.”

“Really? Did you prepare for every possible scenario? Any mementos of home? I’d have thought you to be the independent type.”

“I already told you that I’m not a nostalgic person.”

“You need to learn to make sacrifices,” Kyoutani growled. “You won’t survive in the real world if you don’t make sacrifices. Do you understand that, pretty boy? You’re not going to be sheltered anymore. I’m not protecting you. You’re on your own.”

_I don’t think I’m on my own if I have you, but if that’s what helps you sleep at night, you can believe it._

“What kind of sacrifices do you have in mind, exactly?” Yahaba snapped. He pulled his bag closer to himself, hugging it tightly. He looked away from Kyoutani pointedly, although he could feel Kyoutani’s eyes on him. “If I give myself up entirely, will that be enough? If I give up everything materialistically, will that be enough? Do you need more than that, really? Be honest. I don’t need to waste my time on you messing with me because you’re spiteful.”

Kyoutani only looked at him for a long moment. Yahaba waited, but was impatient, and huffed, sitting up and turning to his other side, away from Kyoutani. He could practically feel Kyoutani’s disapproval, anyway, so he didn’t need to look.

Kyoutani was silent for a long time, but after a while, he mirrored Yahaba’s huff and turned on his side, back facing Yahaba’s. Yahaba closed his eyes and forced himself not to think, and he eventually drifted off into an unsteady sleep. He dreamed of snow, of something biting, and a long, dark path.


	3. Yamanashi

The last time Yahaba had been to a temple was to pray for luck at his first tournament as captain.  
It was funny how much things had changed.

Yahaba’s first thought, when they got off the train, was to find a place to stay. Kyoutani immediately shot down this idea. He said that it was better if they stayed out of actual establishments for as long as possible and for as short a time as possible—that, and he already had somewhere picked out. Yahaba assumed that he'd done research before, but he knew that Kyoutani hadn't had a plan as to where they'd arrive, so he didn't think that that was possible. 

Yahaba had thought, before, that they’d continue moving even after they got off the train, but Kyoutani had been doubtful. Yahaba saw why now. While he hadn’t done anything other than sit for the past six hours, he was physically and mentally drained. Resolutely, he told Kyoutani that he wasn’t going to let himself rest yet, because he didn’t need it. Kyoutani told him that it was foolish, and that he’d better expect his sleep schedule to be ruined soon anyway.

They split up as soon as Kyoutani told Yahaba the farthest he’d roam and the time he'd return, and advised him to stay in similar parameters. Splitting up didn't seem like a smart plan to Yahaba, but Kyoutani said that it would make them less easy to spot when it did matter. Yahaba didn't question him further. He'd never been to the prefecture, so going off alone was terrifying, but he'd known that Kyoutani wouldn't hold his hand the whole time through. He didn't ask any more questions, despite the fact that they had no real method of communication. Kyoutani had come here for a different reason than him. It was rightful that they pursue their interests alone.

Somehow, Yahaba had ended up at a temple, although he wasn't actually sure what had drawn him there. He’d never considered himself especially spiritual, despite being taught proper rituals and respect that he’d really only ever thought about when he’d been forced to go, or on extra special occasions. Volleyball had always been a special occasion.  
Yahaba supposed that this was a special occasion, too.

Yahaba closed his eyes, letting his mind wander. He wasn’t sure, exactly, what he was praying for. He didn’t want anything specific. He wasn’t sure why he’d felt that he needed to go so far away from home in the first place, but he’d felt that it was his only choice, and still did now that he was gone. Even if he wanted to turn back now, it would be too late. He’d have a lot of explaining to do, to his parents and friends.

_I’m not lost, I’m searching for something. I’m already far from home, although it doesn’t feel that way. It’s surreal. It hasn’t sunken in yet that I’m not going home tonight. This isn’t some adventure. I’m not on vacation. I’m having a midlife crisis, I’m soul-searching, and I’m only eighteen._

Yamanashi, by what Yahaba had seen so far, was beautiful. It was mountainous just as Miyagi was, which was familiar in a vaguely comforting way that Yahaba didn’t want to point out to Kyoutani. They’d made it to southern edge of the Kitatsuru District, which was uncomfortably close to Tokyo, but the two towns it contained were more like villages, with low population densities. It was a nice place to stop, Yahaba thought, although Kyoutani had seemed somewhat dissatisfied with the location. 

_I’ll never be able to see Japan the way I’m seeing it now, but I can’t seem to enjoy it. I can’t rush things, but I can’t be on the run forever. Kyoutani’s already so much more certain than I am. I’m still praying that I’ll be able to make it home without this all being a waste. And Kyoutani? I can’t waste Kyoutani’s time after gaining his confidence, at least partially._

Yahaba took a deep breath, carefully inhaling the smell of incense and forcing himself not to cringe away. What he needed to do was find Kyoutani and ask him for help, if only to get his bearings. They didn’t have a destination, but they couldn’t roam aimlessly. And Yahaba couldn’t follow Kyoutani around the whole time without contribution.

_Thinking so hard is what got you in trouble in the first place, isn’t it?_

Yahaba stood up straight and exhaled slowly. He could stay for longer, but he didn’t see the point in it, not when he had things to do. He could easily spend all day searching for Kyoutani and never find him, but there was nothing stopping him from going out on his own and following his own instincts.

Kyoutani would probably claim that he had terrible instincts, if he heard that.

Yahaba would have liked to research more on the district they were staying in, but Kyoutani wouldn’t be happy if he somehow caught Yahaba doing so. The district was so small, relatively, that it wasn’t really necessary, Yahaba exited the temple and looked around, unsure of which direction to take. With no real destination in mind, he turned to the left, making sure to take stock of where he was in relation to where he had to be later so that he could make it back without any trouble.

“Yahaba?”

Yahaba jumped. He whipped around to look at Kyoutani, heart pounding. Kyoutani’s voice was familiar to him, but he hadn’t expected to run into him so early on, or at all. Kyoutani, apparently, hadn’t made it any farther than he had.

“You didn’t have to sneak up on me like that,” Yahaba said with a scowl. He didn’t have to call Kyoutani out on it, but he felt justified in doing so considering the circumstances. He could only hope that Kyoutani wouldn’t judge him for it, knowing that he was oblivious as to what he should be doing.

Kyoutani’s expression hadn’t been particularly hostile before, but now it mirrored Yahaba’s. “You were the one who wasn’t aware of your surroundings. But what are you doing here?”

“Nothing,” Yahaba said, for lack of a better answer. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Right, because you own the place.”

“You’re the one dividing it up like it’s territory.”

Kyoutani raised an eyebrow. “Technically it is territory.”

_Do you seriously think that’s what I meant?_

“That doesn’t matter,” Kyoutani said. He stepped closer to Yahaba, and if he didn’t know how angry Kyoutani really could be, he would have said that he was practically glowering. “What do you hope to gain here?”

“I don’t know? What do _you_ hope to gain here?” Yahaba asked, slightly bewildered. He wasn’t at all surprised that Kyoutani was questioning him—it was a bad habit of his, and had been for as long as Yahaba had known him—but he was surprised that he was questioning his motives specifically. “I would have thought you’d be way out there,” he said, gesturing vaguely in the opposite direction.

“I only said that because I thought you might want to go that far.” Kyoutani shrugged. He pointed to the temple. “Are you here for comfort?”

“I guess?” Yahaba said, not sure of what the right answer was.

Kyoutani frowned. “You know that we’re working as a team here, right?” Yahaba nodded. Kyoutani had never mentioned that before, and he was pretty sure he’d never heard anything less true in his life, but he could play along with it. He was used to Kyoutani contradicting himself. “You have to be honest if you don’t want to go through with this. I’ll keep going after I bring you home. I mean, it’s not too late to turn back now—”

“I’m not turning back,” Yahaba growled. “I was just agreeing with you. I don’t want—I have nothing at home. I’m staying here. I’ll work together with you, like we were forced to this year. I’ll follow you to the end of Japan if I have to. I _can’t_ stay there.”

_I’m not playing around. Not anymore._

Kyoutani stiffened, and Yahaba immediately assumed that he’d said something wrong. The only thing worse than having Kyoutani walk him home—literally, although there wouldn’t be any reason not to take the bullet train then—would be to have him send him home because he couldn’t bear to have him along. 

But then Kyoutani grimaced, and said, his words lacking their usual heat, “You know you’ll have to make sacrifices, then.”

“Yes,” Yahaba said, breath catching in his throat.

_He’s not going to let me off that easily. I’m used to being in charge of him, and now I’m not. It’s unnerving. I don’t think he was ever this intimidated by me. At least we both played volleyball. I don’t know how to play this game._

“You’re going to have to give up a lot of things,” Kyoutani said. Yahaba swallowed, but didn’t break eye contact. “It’s not going to be physical things, at some point. If you understand this, I don’t expect there to be any issues.”

_What does he mean, then? That I have to give up my literal freedom? That I have to give away myself? I’m trying to find myself, not destroy myself. I don’t understand him, and he doesn’t know what I want from him. We’re not on the same page at all._

This revelation startled Yahaba. It had been a while since they hadn’t been able to understand each other. While they’d never stopped disliking each other, while there was always tension between them, they’d first started making breakthroughs in communication at the end of their second year. On the court—where Yahaba had spent hours with Kyoutani, and where the majority of their interactions had remained—their communication and understanding was flawless.

“That’s fine,” Yahaba said, gritting his teeth. “How are you so sure? Have you—have you run before?”

Kyoutani looked away, and even though he didn’t say it explicitly, there was a sense of finality in his body language. “I just know, okay?”

Out of their unspoken rules of conduct, Yahaba didn’t ask what he meant.

“Let’s go, then. It’s better if we stay together, anyway.”


	4. Shizuoka

Once, Yahaba’s parents had brought him on a trip to see the Naruko, a stratovolcano, in Ōsaki.

A caldera had formed in the center of the volcano, and at the time, Yahaba had had a million questions about it. Thinking back on it, they were all questions he’d learn the answers to in the next year at school, but he’d felt smart for wondering why things were the way they were, and, even better, finding out the answers for himself. His teacher had been impressed with his knowledge, and Yahaba had remained enraptured in each discussion for the rest of the unit, although he’d been vaguely disappointed when he hadn’t been able to expand on it the way he’d hoped. It was one of many disappointments in low level classes in the chain of disappointments he’d suffered before high school. 

Yahaba had never seen Mt. Fuji in person, not even from the halfway decent vantage points in Tokyo. He’d seen plenty of postcards, and plenty of pictures online and for random school projects he’d had to do. He’d thought he’d seen all it would be, and that he wouldn’t be too impressed by the site, after years of being forced to look at pictures, namely those taken by relatives who had visited it and thought that he was missing out on a big part of life by not going to see it for himself.

Apparently, though, he was wrong.

They arrived in Shizuoka at dawn about two days after Yamanashi simply due to how careful Kyoutani was being about covering up their tracks. Yahaba had immediately thought of Mt. Fuji when Kyoutani had said that they’d end up in the Shizuoka Prefecture, seeing as it was known for it more than anything else, and Kyoutani grudgingly agreed that they could stop and try to get as close as their time constraints allowed. Yahaba knew that he’d probably be more impressed by Mt, Fuji in person than he’d originally thought, but the day they arrived he was too tired to care to really look around. The pressure of traveling was more than enough to exhaust Yahaba on a daily basis.

And while Kyoutani wasn’t the worst company in the world, he was pretty close to it. They shared hotel rooms because, while it was safer, neither of them particularly wanted to split up, which Yahaba thought was fine for himself, but had been surprised that Kyoutani had agreed with. They’d developed an odd sort of morning routine (that appeared that it would rarely turn out to be in the actual morning of the day) in which Yahaba woke them up, Kyoutani planned a way for them to eat for the day—and, more importantly, where and how they were going to travel—and Yahaba eventually began complaining about everything that he could possibly think of that was possibly on his mind, just to annoy Kyoutani. Kyoutani at least had the faith in him to believe that he wasn’t stupid enough to believe that they would be travelling in comfort.

Train rides and bus rides were possibly even worse, because they rarely spoke to each other even though they were often forced to sit together for hours on end. While they had been away for a few days, Yahaba had yet to feel as though they were running away in poor conditions, or that they were in real danger. He also had yet to see anything that was particularly remarkable in landscape, which probably didn’t help that situation. Kyoutani didn’t ask about it, so Yahaba didn’t address it.

Mt. Fuji, though, would be the thing to change that.

Yahaba woke up early, got up and made noise until Kyoutani groaned, shoved his face in his pillow, and shouted at Yahaba from across the room that he should shut up or get out. So Yahaba pranced around their room humming as he got ready, and eventually Kyoutani sighed heavily and got up. By that time Yahaba was ready to leave, and because he didn’t feel like waiting around and being yelled at by Kyoutani, he left. Kyoutani promised him that he would catch up.

Yahaba had seen his fair share of mountains and volcanoes in his lifetime, but he’d never seen something as majestic as Mt. Fuji. 

His was easily stolen away at the sight. By that point, Kyoutani had caught up with him, and stood beside him. Yahaba could tell that he was watching his reaction, but he didn’t care. Mt. Fuji was tall and vast and foreboding, painfully picturesque and topped with snow. It was cold out, so cold it hurt—snow, or any moisture at all, for that matter, would be unbelievably liberating—but Yahaba couldn’t have cared less. If he’d been to Shizuoka to sightsee, he’d have taken at least a dozen pictures trying to preserve the moment. Yahaba didn’t know if it was because he’d been weaning himself off of technology or if he was losing it, but he knew that he wouldn’t need to now, however brief a moment it was.

“You’ve never seen Mt. Fuji?” Kyoutani asked, a low grumble rather than coherent speech. “Have you ever been to Tokyo?”

“I’ve been to Tokyo, but my family is boring,” Yahaba said, bristling. “So I’ve never seen it.”

“Oh.” Kyoutani shrugged.

They stood in silence for a long, blissful moment. Yahaba wondered if Kyoutani intended to keep up conversation and then decided that it didn’t matter. He looked up again at the mountain and let himself think.

But more importantly, to feel, because that was the whole purpose of running.

“It’d be nice to climb one day, but by then I’ll be so out of shape I won’t be able to,” Yahaba said.

“Well, it’s too cold for that now,” Kyoutani said, as if he’d actually been contemplating it. He crossed his arms, an action as close to one in order to preserve warmth as Yahaba had ever seen him perform. He was partially certain that Kyoutani wasn’t physically capable of becoming cold.

For good measure, Yahaba said, “I didn’t mean now anyway. I’d have to prepare for that.”

Kyoutani shrugged. “But Japan _is_ pretty mountainous,” he said colloquially. “We’ll run into one eventually, I’d think.”

_Wait, what?_

Yahaba frowned, pushing away the panic that was threatening to show on his face. “You don’t mean— Kyoutani, we can’t—”

“It’s that or the ocean. Can you swim?” Kyoutani asked in the same conversational tone, and it was then that Yahaba realized, through the grin threatening to break through Kyoutani’s perfectly even expression, that he was actually making a joke.

Of course one of the first jokes Yahaba had ever heard Kyoutani make would be at his expense.

Yahaba scowled and turned away, perfectly aware that he couldn’t pass off his confusion as him going along with what Kyoutani had been saying. His face felt uncomfortably hot in his embarrassment, and he hoped that Kyoutani wouldn’t notice, although he had the uncanny ability to do so.

“If you knew how to run you’d have known that I wasn’t serious,” Kyoutani muttered, and by the sound of his voice, Yahaba could tell that he was facing away from him. 

_Way to turn this experience into a negative one._

_The right choice here would be to ignore him and move on, but when have I ever made correct choices? With Kyoutani?_

“I'm sure you have to survive a lot of unpleasant things if you're doing it properly,” Yahaba said. He waved his hand. “Like this temperature. Aren't we great planners? I think so.”

Yahaba didn't have to look to know that Kyoutani was radiating a scowl. “I'd say you have to be in comfort to a degree. There's no point in getting away from your problems if you're just creating new ones, although I know a few people who might.”

_Wow. I thought our days of indirectly calling each other out were over. At least say it if you mean it._

“And,” Kyoutani added, before Yahaba could respond, “I specifically remember you telling me that this was a fine time, because your parents wouldn't go searching in the woods of Miyagi for you if it snowed.”

“Right. I said exactly that, and I meant it.” _I mean, they might send someone else to look for me, but I never said they wouldn't._

_But I know we’re not running, anyway. We’re different. This is different. I'm going to prove people wrong by doing this, even if they never understand._

“I think it's beautiful,” Yahaba said after an awkward moment of silence. “I've never seen anything like it.”

“Huh?” Kyoutani barked. “You just said…”

“Just because I don't want to climb it doesn't mean I don't think it's beautiful,” Yahaba said with a roll of his eyes. “You probably think I'm naive, too, but I don't care.”

“I don't,” Kyoutani grunted, although it didn't sound very convincing. That was fine. Yahaba had learned not to take his words to heart, anyway.

“I'll find myself my way,” Yahaba said, taking a deep breath as he looked back up to the mountain. “We've already established that we won't dictate what that means for each other.”

“If you've found yourself already you wouldn't have run in the first place,” Kyoutani muttered. “I don't have to explain that to you.”

_I already have a million times, he means. I'm just a nuisance for him, but I don't care. He chose to take me along, and there's something special about that because he wouldn't—he couldn't—take just anyone who wanted to make a change._

_I didn't come along wanting to create something between us, or end up on better terms with him, but if that's a side effect, I'll gladly take everything it has to offer._

“I know,” Yahaba said. “You don't have to explain.”

“Then why are we still here?”


	5. Nara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter!

“I don’t care what you get. Just make it quick and don’t show your face. Stay out as long as you need.”

That had been what Kyoutani had told him, but now that Yahaba was halfway to following his instructions, he’d realized how impossible it would actually be.

“Don’t show your face,” Yahaba muttered to himself. He passed by his second Mos Burger in an hour. He looked up ahead, spotted as McDonald’s, and sighed. He kicked a rock out of his way and kept walking, shoving his hands in his pockets even though it would draw attention to him.

Since Kyoutani had insisted that they didn’t need disguises, he was left with few options. He figured that wearing a hood would probably be suspicious, so he bought a cheap pair of fake glasses—if Oikawa Tooru, the most noticeable person on Earth, could pull it off, he assumed that he could as well—and decided to hope for the best. Needless to say, it wasn’t the best plan that he’d ever come up with, but he wasn’t going to hide, as Kyoutani had implied that he should do. That had never worked for him.

At least, it had never worked for him in comparison to the way it had worked for Kyoutani. Kyoutani wasn’t a people person. He was brash and impulsive and had a terrible attitude most of the time, but he got along effortlessly with strangers when he was forced to. Yahaba considered himself decent with people, and personable enough, but he’d always felt like people were able to see through him too easily to pull of what they really needed.

Not only that, but he hadn’t realized before just how much Kyoutani had been doing for the two of them. He’d found them a place to stay every night, in every prefecture so far, without fail. He’d fed them more decently than Yahaba had been able to, and he’d managed to show Yahaba around to a few landmarks along the way, even though he’d pretended to do it reluctantly every time. They weren’t good friends by any means, but Yahaba knew how to pick up on that much from the time they’d spent together.

Yahaba had done a decent amount of research on his own, but he knew now that he hadn’t done what he’d needed to at all. Without Kyoutani, he would be lost, in all meanings of the word. He’d researched general knowledge of prefectures they were most likely to stumble upon, but not for all scenarios and never usable information, although he had to allow himself reprieve for that, because he hadn’t known what would be useful. He certainly hadn’t been thinking about landmarks. He’d blamed his disinterest in this on Kyoutani at the time, but he could grudgingly admit now that it had been his own anxiety to blame.

That said, it wasn’t any easier to travel a country with a man one held little interest in even after recognizing problems.

Ten minutes later, Yahaba had convinced himself to actually go inside a restaurant to order. He had no idea what Kyoutani really liked because he seemed pessimistic about everything he ate, and knew that he wasn’t going to be successful if he tried to make him eat a decent diet regardless. He tucked the bag under his arm and began walking the other way as soon as he got outside, intent on getting back to the room he was sharing with Kyoutani.

He would have been successful, too, if not for a discovery and a moment of weakness.

He’d been trying not to think about memories from home since they’d started running. He hadn’t lied in telling Kyoutani that he wasn’t the most emotional person in the world, but he was still human and didn’t trust himself. He knew that it wasn’t possible, but he was pretty sure that Kyoutani had some sixth sense in which he was easily able to tell when Yahaba was extremely upset or angry, which made mourning ten times harder.

Yahaba was firm in his belief that he didn’t deserve to mourn. He didn’t deserve to mourn when he’d left his family, having made the conscious decision to go even though he’d miss his life of comfort for the short time period in which they were gone. He didn’t deserve to mourn when he’d made the decision to go even though his family would be in pain, wondering where he was and probably mourning themselves, to an extent.

He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t broken yet. He’d stuck true almost religiously to his promise not to check his phone to Kyoutani, at least not until far into their way home. He hadn’t realized before how doing so might affect him and his desire to go home, so he’d stayed away from it, although he’d originally done so because it would only lead to him and Kyoutani getting caught faster. He knew that seeing how worried his family was would only deter him from his goal, and even though his goal was so selfish, he was determined to follow through with it. It made him feel guilty and homesick even just to think about it briefly.

So thinking about home at all, even brief flashes of it, wouldn’t help his cause. Thinking of Kyoutani wouldn’t help. He would glean nothing to help them get along better from their past experiences and he wasn’t fool enough to try it. One didn’t learn how to deal with Kyoutani Kentarou through facts, anyway. It was a feeling. 

But Yahaba could clearly remember the day upon which he and Kyoutani had found an abandoned kitten and had taken care of it together. He could clearly remember returning only to find a puppy, a puppy that Kyoutani had become painfully attached to and had been forced to leave for reasons that Yahaba didn't know nor was close to understanding, and he wasn't going to ask Kyoutani why because he didn't want to argue with him about it when he knew how badly Kyoutani wanted things to be different.

That was also the day upon which Yahaba had realized how much he didn't know about Kyoutani, and that was something he tried not to think about, more or less, because it was a reminder that he couldn't be a proper captain if he couldn't understand the _whys._ So Kyoutani remained a mystery to him, even now, and Yahaba tried not to think about the things that he couldn't understand without asking questions he shouldn't.

Yahaba crouched down next to the box, wincing as he summoned the courage to look inside. If he was correct, he didn't want to deal with what he saw, because that would mean a repeat of what had happened over a year ago, and he still didn't have answers from then, and didn't want to ask for them now when the stakes were higher and he could barely say that he'd earned Kyoutani’s respect. He ran his hands along the cardboard, and leaned forward to look inside.

Of course. 

The kitten was young enough so that it's eyes were barely open, but when it saw Yahaba, its mouth opened in a silent wail. Yahaba gasped, clutching on the the cardboard harder, startled despite himself. Yahaba had expected something older, something he could more easily turn away from. But of course he was stuck with something young, so young it would unquestionably freeze in the cold if Yahaba left it alone.

Yahaba didn’t have a choice. But he didn’t have the heart to turn away, either.

_I don’t know who Kyoutani thinks I am, Yahaba thought grimly. But I know that he’s not correct._

_And maybe I don’t really know him, either._

Yahaba reached out with trembling fingers to touch the kitten. Its fur was soft and silky, and the kitten flopped against him weakly, but otherwise didn’t react. Yahaba wrenched away his hand as though he’d been burned. He certainly couldn’t afford to go soft like this, but it was still a struggle even though he was trying his hardest to fight it off. It wasn’t just Kyoutani’s ideals he was following. It was his own desire to keep moving forward, and he hated that it had come to this.

 _You have to make sacrifices,_ Kyoutani would say, and Yahaba knew that he was right. He knew that he couldn’t argue Kyoutani’s carefully woven logic, logic born from experience Yahaba didn’t have and couldn’t imagine where Kyoutani had gleaned. But he didn’t need to know anymore, because he believed it for himself.

Yahaba closed his eyes and let out a breath shakily. He knew that his decision had already been made. He had to make his sacrifice, and it was going to be now or never, before he chickened out and went begging to Kyoutani for help, although doing that would probably hurt him more, and he knew that he’d regret that in the long run, too, He didn’t want Kyoutani’s anger to deal with.

But if Kyoutani agreed, and wanted to help…

Yahaba sighed angrily. He picked up the box and held onto it carefully, bringing it up to his chest to peer in properly. The kitten hadn’t seemed to have been left alone for long, but long enough, especially considering the location of the box, placed where people were less likely to find it. Yahaba couldn’t imagine the type of person that would leave a kitten alone in the first place, never mind someone who would do it so heartlessly. Yahaba repositioned the box so that it was balancing on one arm with its weight on his chest, and adjusted the food that he was supposed to bring back in one piece so that he wouldn’t drop it and waste more money when it counted so much now.

If Yahaba had had more time, he would have looked around better for a decent place, but he didn’t have many options. He ended up placing the box more or less in front of the restaurant, where he knew people would see it as they were walking in. Hopefully nobody had seen him do it, although he knew that he and Kyoutani would be long gone before anyone had the chance to approach them. If he couldn’t do something about it himself, he’d at least make sure that someone did. Eventually the kitten would have to be reported, if someone didn’t take it to a shelter.

_I’ve changed so much, and so poorly._

Yahaba couldn’t remember when he’d ever felt so guilty when he turned his back and continued walking in the other way.

He couldn’t remember a time in which he’d wanted to go home so badly.

He knew that he wasn't supposed to be homesick yet. He wasn't, he didn't think. But if he was home, he could've done with the kitten what they'd done before. Back then he hadn't even asked his parents if he could keep it, which he now regretted. It'd be pointless now, going off to university.

Why was he so far away from home if he'd be leaving soon?

_I can't go back yet. I've done nothing yet. I can't._

_All I have to do is stay hidden. Doesn't the end justify the means?_


	6. Hiroshima

“You didn’t know about this place, did you?”

“I wouldn’t have taken us here if I did,” Kyoutani said, frozen on the spot. His fingers brushed against Yahaba’s, but he didn’t seem to notice. Kyoutani looked more lost than Yahaba had seen him so far, and it worried him. Kyoutani grimaced. “I don’t know what to do.”

“But why?” Yahaba said, not quite confused but failing to see what Kyoutani was seeing. “Do we have to change anything? I thought we were fine?”

Yahaba had learned quickly that he could trust Kyoutani with his life, and unquestionably or not, Kyoutani would be there to catch him. Kyoutani didn’t expect anything in return, but he knew how to play his cards correctly. He wouldn’t invest in a person he knew couldn’t repay him. Yahaba also knew that their time was limited. But he couldn’t make decisions based on his unconventional partnership with Kyoutani because he didn’t have anyone else, and they’d already made it this far.

He’d trusted Kyoutani so far to keep them out of trouble because he couldn’t realistically trust himself to do so, even though he was loath to admit it. If Kyoutani was panicking, there was probably a good reason for it, and there was probably also a good chance that if Kyoutani couldn’t do anything about it, than neither could he.

“If we turn back now it’s for good,” Kyoutani said, visibly deflating. “I should have anticipated this. My one mistake, and now we’re going to have to cut this short, unless, in a highly unlikely scenario, you have a better solution. We can find another way, but it’ll take time, and we don’t have time…”

“We can’t do that. I’m not doing that,” Yahaba said resolutely. Personally, he didn’t believe that it was as big of a deal as Kyoutani, but he wasn’t going to argue him on his mistake because he knew that he would lose that battle, at least. “There are so many people we won’t be seen, right? How long will it take us to get through? We can do it. We’ve done worse.”

Yahaba had yet to tell Kyoutani about the kitten incident. Maybe he would, one day, when they were back in Miyagi and Kyoutani wouldn’t take him for being soft and maybe he’d even applaud him for turning away so easily. Yes, he wanted to go home then, but he was smarter than that. He’d made a sacrifice, but it wouldn’t be his only sacrifice before their journey was up, not by a long shot.

“There are so many people our faces will be on billboards,” Kyoutani growled. His fingers twitched against Yahaba’s. “This is different. The stakes are higher. We’ve risked too much—Yahaba, we can’t risk this. It’s out of the question.”

Yahaba looked away. He wasn't making progress, but he couldn’t force Kyoutani through a change of heart. Anything he could try to argue Kyoutani would already be aware of, so he would be largely unsuccessful either way. He most certainly didn’t want to turn back, and Kyoutani was probably even less happy to admit that they had to than he was. The fact that he felt that he had no choice but to do so now meant enough.

Yahaba touched his fingers to Kyoutani’s. Kyoutani glanced at him, but said nothing. Yahaba reached for him again and took his hand.

Kyoutani let out a long breath. He glanced down at their joined hands, and then back up at Yahaba’s expectant expression. Slowly, he said, “Well, what do you think?” 

“Should we be here?” Yahaba asked. It was a painfully simple question, but one Yahaba should have asked as soon as they’d come across the city. Had Kyoutani’s plans gone askew? Had his research failed him? Was it a simple mistake, one that could lead to the inevitable end of their journey—a premature end, in this scenario?

“I don’t know,” Kyoutani breathed, turning his head to look around them. His grip on Yahaba’s hand tightened. “I don’t know.”

_Oh, this is fantastic._

It had started to snow again. The Hiroshima Prefecture was mountainous, and followed along Japan’s coastline. Yahaba had seen pictures before, and knew that it was supposed to be a delightful place to go for a vacation, especially when one could appreciate the sea. Yahaba didn’t think that he could now. It was cold and wet and not at all the tourist-friendly area Yahaba had seen in pictures. It didn’t help that he and Kyoutani were utterly lost, and had been on the move for days without rest.

But there was nothing that could help that, and they didn’t have much of a choice as to what they should do, at this point. 

“Stay close,” Yahaba whispered, squeezing lightly on his fingers, and Kyoutani nodded. He tugged on his hand, and Kyoutani followed obediently.

Yahaba didn’t think that he would make it more than a few steps into the city before Kyoutani backed out on him and pulled him away like he had been intending to all along. That probably would have been the smarter thing to do, but Yahaba wasn’t at all street smart and Kyoutani hadn’t stopped him yet. Yahaba swallowed hard and kept walking, and Kyoutani followed close behind him, still holding his hand even though it was unnecessary.

They turned a corner, Yahaba led them onto the main street leading into the city, and Kyoutani seemed to realize this. Kyoutani dropped Yahaba’s hand, but continued walking so close to him that their arms brushed. Yahaba found that he didn’t mind at all, and he kept walking without addressing it.

They’d come across several major cities in the time they’d been travelling south, although they’d always anticipated it and had come up with solutions. It didn’t matter where they were, to an extent. As long as there were people, there was a risk of getting caught, although some were more likely to report them than others, if they were even aware of their disappearances. Yahaba couldn’t help but wonder if they’d pieced together the fact that their disappearing on the same day was because they’d gone together—it wasn’t hard to guess, but they were known to hate each other—because them sticking close together would be a factor in their getting caught for sure, although it could influence this in a variety of different ways.

Kyoutani had never been as high strung as he was now, though. He’d been strict in telling Yahaba that the biggest thing they had to remember was that to try not to look suspicious was to make yourself look suspicious, and they simply couldn’t afford to do that. Kyoutani looked around carefully, watching people as scrutinizingly as always, although Yahaba didn’t get what the big deal was.

What was so special about this place when they’d been in danger so many other times? What was different now? What had changed? Had Yahaba done something that had made Kyoutani change his views?

“Listen,” Kyoutani said, stopping them in front of a store that Yahaba didn’t have time to recognize. He put his hands on Yahaba’s shoulders, and his fingers curled in Yahaba’s—no, Kyoutani’s—jacket. Around them, people kept walking, but Kyoutani remained adamantly planted in the middle of the sidewalk. “I’m gonna go ahead. Follow, but don’t get caught. Do you understand?”

_Of course. He wants to keep me safe. I’ve never been so enamored by this thought as I am now._

“Are you sure?” Yahaba asked. He reached for Kyoutani and rested his hands on his waist, “I don’t want to put you in a position where I can’t get to you. You know that we don’t have to go through here, right—?”

Instead of answering Yahaba’s question, Kyoutani repeated, “Do you understand?”

 _A few months ago, I would have been offended by him treating me like I can’t take care of myself, but I know now what he means by it, and how he’s trying to express himself._ “Don’t doubt it for a second,” Yahaba retorted.

Kyoutani seemed satisfied enough with this answer. He nodded and let go of Yahaba. “I’m going to take this street, and then you’ll just have to follow me after that.” He licked his lips. “Trust me on this. I think… I know where I’m going. I think. If worst comes to worst, we’ll find a place to stay for the night, but we’ll have to more fast.”

Yahaba nodded. Kyoutani turned, glanced back at Yahaba, and then began walking. Yahaba lingered, watching him, and then followed before he let himself over think it. He had enough time to do that. His job was simple: follow Kyoutani, let him do what he wants, and trust him. His personal reward would be greater than what Kyoutani would have to deal with in getting them to their destination.

_He’s doing this for you. You wanted this, and he’s willing to take a risk because you wanted to get out of the countryside so badly and see this. Don’t be an inconvenience for him now. This is a huge violation of the few rules he’s made to keep us safe, so you should be grateful for this exception._

_Follow where he leads, and he’ll get you where you need to go._

_Hasn’t he done that so far already?_


	7. Kyoto

Yahaba had expected all along, without thinking much of it, that he would be the one to crack and wish to return home first.

He had expected, maybe, that he and Kyoutani would come to a mutual agreement that they were sick of traveling.

He hadn’t expected to find Kyoutani asking questions first. He hadn’t expected so soon. He hadn’t been keeping track of time, but it did feel soon. He didn’t expect to feel so tired, to agree with Kyoutani without prompting. He should have expected it, though, after they’d begun traveling north again, whether it was on purpose or not. There had been nowhere else to go. Yahaba knew that that should have been symbolic of something, but it was something he did not want to think about.

Yahaba leaned against the wall a few feet away and remained silent as Kyoutani spoke. He hadn't seen him yet, too busy fumbling in his pockets for money. He slid it over the counter haphazardly. 

“That's not far, really… Is that so? ...Thank you again, I—”

Kyoutani abruptly stopped talking when he saw Yahaba. His expression softened, and he turned away from the cashier. “Shigeru,” he said. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Yahaba said, wiping his hands on his pants. Kyoutani walked by him quickly and pulled the door open, holding it for Yahaba. Yahaba muttered a thank you as he walked by him, and the two walked out into the cool night air. Yahaba shivered.

“I got you something even though you said you weren't hungry,” Kyoutani said, waving his paper bag. “I'll save it for you if you don't want it now. I wouldn't count on room service where we’re going.”

“When have you ever counted on room service?” Yahaba said, with as much wry humor as he could muster.

“Never.” Kyoutani smiled—if it could even be called that—dryly. “Let's hurry back. It's going to rain hard tonight.” He glanced over at Yahaba. “I know you're tired… We won't push as hard tomorrow, alright?”

“Mmm…” Yahaba nodded slowly. He followed Kyoutani in a haze, dragging his feet as he walked. He hadn't been excited about running at first. His anxiety had pushed him on for days, but he'd gotten used to running by now and it didn't have an effect on him anymore. It made sense that his exhaustion would finally catch up to him now, on their way home, but Yahaba couldn't think about the stretch of land in front of them without experiencing a sinking feeling of dread. It would be hard on both of them, and that was dangerous.

Yahaba knew by now that Kyoutani feared getting caught on the way home would be worse than getting caught on the journey itself. 

They still hadn't discussed Kyoutani’s conversation with the cashier by the time Kyoutani got them a room to stay in for the night. It was a hotel that didn't look terrible on the outside, but when they arrived in their room, Yahaba was dialed worried that rain would be seeking g through cracks in the walls before the night was through. Kyoutani looked around only briefly, before frowning and claiming one of the beds for himself—the one closer to the door. 

“Feel free to take what you want,” Kyoutani said, dropping the bag of food on a dresser. Yahaba only shrugged. He wasn't in the mood to eat soggy French fries for dinner for the fourth day in a row? Although he didn't have the option to be picky and Kyoutani had tried his best. 

_What would it be like to eat something of any nutritional value for once?_

Yahaba kicked off his shoes and got comfortable in his bed. Kyoutani had given up getting rooms with one bed and pulling out a cot after their fourth night running, and Yahaba considered having his own bed a luxury. 

Thunder rumbled quietly in the distance. Yahaba and Kyoutani looked up at the same time, concern flashing across Kyoutani’s expression. He headed over to the only window, an uncomfortably small window, on the far wall and ran his hand down the windowsill. He glanced back at Yahaba and closed the curtains, and Yahaba was ashamed to admit how quickly his shoulders dropped, losing their stiffness.

“I guess we made it just in time,” Kyoutani said. He hesitated, and then sat down next to Yahaba. “Scared?”

Somehow, it didn't sound condescending, not like Yahaba would have assumed if Kyoutani had asked at any other point in time. If Kyoutani had asked before they'd run, before Yahaba had seen Kyoutani’s fears, he'd have been indignant and upset. But now there was a fondness behind Kyoutani’s words, a certain caring that could only come from spending time together in the way they had.

That, and Yahaba couldn't deny that Kyoutani had seen his worst. Kyoutani had reason to wonder if he'd be upset, he supposed, even if caring didn't suit him.

Yahaba shook his head. “Not anymore.”

“Good,” Kyoutani said. There was a long moment of silence as he considered his words. “You, ah… Forgive me for asking, but… Do you always need things a certain way?”

It still didn't sound mean, or rude, and Yahaba had to think for a long moment before responding because it didn't fit the script for the evening at all. He wasn't startled by Kyoutani finally asking questions, because it has taken him long enough. Kyoutani understood Yahaba in a way that Yahaba couldn't describe, not because he wanted to, but because that was simply the way Kyoutani was.

“You could call in that.” Yahaba drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them. “It's not… something that interferes with my daily life or anything, but I need… certain things, I guess. I know that probably doesn't make sense.”

Kyoutani tilted his head at him. “No, it's fine. I get it. Have you always been that way?”

Yahaba hesitated. He could lie or change the topic of conversation, but he didn't want to. He'd never opened up to anybody about his problem in that way before, and while he hadn't been expecting Kyoutani, he didn't have a choice.

He wouldn't do it if he didn't want to, though, and if he couldn't trust Kyoutani now, there was nobody in the world he would ever be able to trust again.

“It's not genetic for me, if that's what you're asking,” Yahaba said. “But I can't remember being any different. There's nothing I could have done to change things when I was younger, not with the people I live with and… it's just unfortunate. And then I'm blamed for it?” Yahaba looked up at Kyoutani and frowned. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dump all of that on you. I'm not a special snowflake.”

“I know you're not. I'd never think that,” Kyoutani said. “No, I, uh. I relate to that. I know what you mean. You don't have to worry that I don't.” He bumped shoulders with Yahaba. “It's easy to spot another person in the same pain you're in.”

“I'm glad I came with you, because I had to give up some of my control and it was fine. And to you, too—I'm just used to being captain and everything, so that probably didn't help me…” Yahaba sighed. “I don't want you to think I can't handle this or that you have to treat me differently or anything.”

“I'd never do that,” Kyoutani promised. “I trust that you won't of me. Somehow, I mean, after how we've gotten along.”

“I regret that a lot,” Yahaba admitted. The words felt strange coming from his mouth, even though he'd thought about them before. “I know I never helped.”

Kyoutani barked a short laugh. “Oh, you have no idea.” He shifted closer to Yahaba, turning to look at him. “I suppose I owe you my story, then.”

Yahaba shook his head—not that he didn't want to hear, but he hadn't been expecting anything in return, and he wasn't hoping for a therapy session. But Kyoutani had also been a mystery to him ever since they'd met, and he'd felt a strange sense of responsibility to him ever since, especially as captain. “You don't have to, Kyoutani. I don't need that to feel justified, I mean…”

“I know. I want to. I've never told you how grateful I am, or even showed you, and you're my _captain,_ ” Kyoutani said, expression twisted into one of bitter regret. “Who doesn't have respect for their captain? That's not your fault. It's mine.”

“Not anymore,” Yahaba said.

“You're my captain,” Kyoutani repeated, “and I've never treated you as such. Which I guess has to do with what I want to explain. You deserve an explanation.”

_It's not like Kyoutani to want to pay back, but what else don't I know about him?_

“I didn't… come from the best place. I know it's stereotypical, me coming from a terrible family just as world-hating as I am.” Kyoutani forced a laugh. “But that's the truth, really. They didn't care about me, really, but I didn't get into anything bad at first. I entertained myself fine, for the most part. I knew that if I didn't I'd have to pay for it.”

“Kyoutani, that's—”

“I don't want your sympathy, or for you to feel like your problems are insignificant compared to mine. A mental battle is harder than any physical one,” Kyoutani said dismissively. “Although I supposed my problems gave me a physical war to fight as well. I blew my education because nobody ever told me I was good. I threw myself into volleyball because I was never shoved away from it. I'm not like Oikawa—he's just stupid, let me tell you—because it was just a way to get rid of my anger.”

Yahaba stayed silent. He didn't want to say anything without giving Kyoutani the time he deserved, before making judgements that simply didn't match up with the volume of the situation.

“I don't believe that people are terrible by nature. But I know that being ignored for so long brought anger out of me, as a coping method.” Kyoutani let out a shaky breath. “I don't want that for anybody. People don't belong alone. It doesn't make sense.”

“I'm here for you,” Yahaba said finally.

“And Shigeru, when you asked earlier if I've run before, I didn't answer because I was scared, but I owe you that now, if you're willing to hear me out.”


	8. Gifu

“Oh, look. Another village.”

Yahaba rolled his eyes, slinging his bag over his shoulder again and nudging Kyoutani forward. “You can pick: that or another capital city.” Kyoutani grumbled unintelligibly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Capital cities have proper heating. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want to be warm when you sleep tonight.”

“And villages don’t have that? You know, villages aren’t named because they’re technologically behind, but because of population count. Don't tell me you're discriminating against villagers.”

Kyoutani glared at Yahaba for a moment, but didn’t respond. Yahaba looked away before he started smiling. It was funny how things had changed to entertain him. It really wasn't that amusing—Kyoutani really wasn't an amusing person, but here Yahaba was.

Kyoutani insisted that they take their time returning home instead of just taking a bullet train and getting back as soon as possible. Closer to home, they were in more danger of being spotted, and Kyoutani wanted to take things slow if it would ensure that they would do it right. Yahaba agreed with him, but was anxious to get home, despite knowing that there wouldn’t really be anything there for him when he got back.

Nothing more than heartbreak and many, many explanations for which he didn't have words. 

“It's definitely winter now,” Kyoutani said with a grimace. “Look at that frost. It's not going to be warming up again anytime soon.”

_That's worrying, but we don't have to worry about it. We’ll be back before then—we’ll be back soon, before it snows again… or at least heavily._

_I don't want to think about that. Returning is going to be much harder than leaving was. I hope I still have Kyoutani then to help me through it, but nothing is guaranteed._

“If it snows I might hand myself over to the police,” Yahaba said, zipping up his jacket. He crossed his arms over his chest, exhaling out slowly and watching his breath puff away in front of him.

Usually Yahaba was decently excited for snow. It was certainly cold enough for it, and the air smelled like snow. Yahaba couldn't say that it was unpleasant, but he wanted to get away from it now. He and Kyoutani could find a decent place to stay to wait out the snow when it did come, but they'd still have to keep traveling on foot for a decent amount of time. If Yahaba got lucky and the timing was right, they could take the train, but that wasn't guaranteed at all, in interest of their goals.

Kyoutani scowled, which was a decidedly neutral reaction coming from him. Yahaba was used to him taking him much more seriously. “I don't think so.”

Yahaba shrugged.

He wasn't sure if he'd accomplished what he wanted to by now. He supposed that he might never be able to identify it properly. What he was seeking was a complex feeling that he couldn't put a definite name on. Yahaba knew that he'd changed, and that going back to live under somebody else’s control would be a hard adjustment, but that hadn't been what he was seeking. He didn't want to make things difficult for himself on purpose. As for Kyoutani, Yahaba wasn't even sure how he'd begin to ask him how he was doing. Kyoutani would probably be spiteful if he did.

Yahaba waited outside their hotel room as Kyoutani finished getting himself ready, and they left with little conversation—which wasn't really necessary anymore, since they'd established a routine and Yahaba knew where they were going—to an extent.

The familiarity of it all should have been startling, but it was something that Yahaba had become used to. Secluding he himself from everyone but Kyoutani had also become normal, as strange as it was. They were closer to home than they'd been in days, but it felt more like they were farther away than ever, the mental distance equating to much more than the physical one. And there was nothing Yahaba could do about it.

Unsurprisingly, much had changed since they’d begun travelling back up north. Yahaba could feel himself becoming increasingly irritated for seemingly no reason—maybe at himself, maybe at Kyoutani, and, most likely, simply because he was tired—tired of running, of hiding, and everything else he’d had to subject himself to on repeat for the past few days. As close as he and Kyoutani had become over the past few days, he felt at the same time that they were growing apart. There was an unspoken agreement between them as to where they were going, and even though they’d talked about it before, they hadn’t addressed it since they’d left home, not even now that they were turned around.

Japan wasn’t the largest country in the world. They’d had nowhere else to go down, so they’d only had the chance of rising back up.

After this, what would keep them together? Yahaba never would have continued talking to Kyoutani with the goal of making progress between them if not for the volleyball club. He could also easily blame his running away on Kyoutani—he wouldn’t have run if he hadn’t befriended him, if it could be referred to as that. Kyoutani was a bad influence, he could say. He’d convinced Yahaba to do it; he’d changed his values and made it seem possible.

As _if_ Yahaba would throw his partner under the bus like that. Thinking back on it, he couldn’t picture himself doing that at the start of their journey, either. Kyoutani had offered Yahaba something from the start—a chance at something new. And Yahaba held that more dear than anything anybody else had offered him before, and he would be forever grateful to Kyoutani for it.

At least, that was what he thought now, and hoped to maintain. It was realistic that he would become bitter to Kyoutani upon returning home, and quite literally use Kyoutani as an easy excuse for why he’d left and made his family and friends feel the way Yahaba had no doubts that they felt. It was incredibly selfish, what they had done, and they’d both known that. So why was it so hard to return now, when they’d been preparing for it since they’d left?

Yahaba didn’t need to ask Kyoutani to know that the same thoughts were on his mind. After spending so much time together—at least, it felt like much longer than it actually was, and it was much more intense than anything Yahaba had ever experienced with anyone else—they thought the same way, and had the same fears, and the same hopes. Yahaba had shared a piece of himself with Kyoutani that he hadn’t shown to anyone else before, and he’d received something similar in return.

“You can have my coat again,” Kyoutani murmured to him as they began walking away from the hotel. He looked forward resolutely, away from Yahaba, even as he moved closer to him. The tips of his ears were red, but Yahaba was sure that it was just because of the cold. “I’m not that cold.”

“I don’t need it,” Yahaba said. He suppressed a shiver. Kyoutani glanced at him but said nothing, and Yahaba was sure that he had picked up on it, because it was impossible for them not to be so tuned into each other’s actions at this point. Moments later, Kyoutani draped his coat over Yahaba’s shoulders, even though he was already wearing one. He didn’t address it, and continued walking, and Yahaba followed behind him because he didn’t have anything to give him in return but his loyalty.

They walked without destination, but it doesn’t take long before they come across a bus stop. Kyoutani froze in front of it and looked at the times displayed on the board by the stop, and the routes, and then looked back at Yahaba. Yahaba swallowed and nodded, and Kyoutani sat down on the bench by the stop. Yahaba sat next to him, leaving little room between them, and Kyoutani let out a breathy sigh.

Yahaba didn’t look at the times. He’d learned over the past few days—week?—that it was useless to count off time. Nobody in their right mind would wait around at a bus stop for as long as they probably would when it was this cold out, not when they had other options. Kyoutani and Yahaba could have made other options, but they would have been just as unpleasant. The temperature, Yahaba decided, didn’t bother him much anyway. Not when Kyoutani was beside him, feeling exactly what he felt.

Eventually a bus came, and panic welled up in Yahaba’s chest involuntarily. He grabbed onto Kyoutani’s sleeve and looked up at him, balking.

Kyoutani’s lips twitched into a frown, but he forced his expression into something more neutral. “Hey,” he said. He put his hand on Yahaba’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m here. We can… get off any time you want. We don’t have to go all the way if you don’t want to.”

So Yahaba had been right. Kyoutani wasn’t in any hurry to get back, but their time was limited and they didn’t have much of a choice. But Kyoutani was making the choice to actively make their way home, and he knew how Yahaba felt—he _knew_ and he was going to make things better, but it was like pulling off a bandaid and it was going to hurt the whole way there. A part of Yahaba didn’t want to believe it. He’d been in a state of bliss not thinking about home for the majority of their journey. And now?

Would Kyoutani be there for Yahaba after, too? Would Yahaba be there for him?

Kyoutani’s hand slid down to Yahaba’s waist. “Okay?”

Yahaba nodded, swallowing frantically, and steeled his nerves. Kyoutani ushered them onto the bus and to the back, which wasn’t suspicious because there were already a few people there. Yahaba’s heart leapt into his throat at the thought of recognition—what if the bus driver played the news?—but Kyoutani’s grip tightened and he took a deep breath.

“I’m not leaving you,” Kyoutani said, tipping his head to Yahaba’s shoulder, and a sob caught in his throat. “Shigeru, you can trust me.”

_He knows me so well. He knows this, but he can’t possibly promise anything to me. I don’t want that if I can’t promise him that I’ll never leave him._

_I’ll never leave him willingly. He’s a part of me now, everything he stands for and everything he is. Everything I’ve ever disliked about him. He’s mine. I’m not letting him go, not even when we return home and our worlds are turned upside down, even more so than we’ve damaged them already._


	9. Miyagi

“Are you sure you don’t want to do it together?”

Yahaba supposed that he should feel tired. He’d gotten little sleep last night, slumped over Kyoutani on a bus that seemed to jolt every time they went over a tiny pothole. He’d been anxious, but numb, and with that odd combination of emotions, he hadn’t slept. They were probably why he wasn’t tired, although it would most likely hit him after he left Kyoutani—Kyoutani, his saving grace.

Kyoutani hesitated, only briefly considering his words, and then shook his head resolutely. “I do want to be there for you, but it’s best if we go alone. It’s okay, Shigeru. I can go home alone… We’ll both be fine.”

Their original plan had been to call their parents, and then they wouldn’t have to go home themselves, when much more would be uncertain. Then Yahaba said that he would accompany Kyoutani home and to confront his parents, to which Kyoutani had strongly objected to. Somehow they’d ended up at Yahaba’s house, Kyoutani having convinced him that it would be best if he dropped him off and then went home.

Yahaba wasn’t sure that he could depend on hearing from Kyoutani afterwards, but he also knew that it was impossible for him to hang on to him much longer.

“But it’ll be harder for you,” Yahaba protested, simply for the sake of protesting. They were overlooking Yahaba’s house, now. The view from the top of this hill was a familiar one, one Yahaba had a clear picture in his mind of. He’d been up here before during past winters, in deep snow, and during summers, when his parents had demanded that he mow the lawn despite it technically not being on their property.

Kyoutani took a step forward, and his feet sank in the snow. 

“Shh,” he said. He closed the gap between him and Yahaba, stepping as close as he could without touching him. Yahaba focused his gaze on Kyoutani’s shoulders so he didn’t have to look at him for real. “It’ll be hard for you, too. They love you.”

Yahaba sighed, glancing down at the house. The snow leading up to the front steps had been untouched from last night’s snow. Yahaba doubted that his parents had left the house in their worry for him.

“They’re going to have so many questions,” Yahaba mused, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “I feel bad. They’re going to think that they did something wrong, but it was really all me.”

“It’s okay to admit that they’re not perfect, Shigeru,” Kyoutani said with a sigh. “You don’t have to tell them everything as long as they know you aren’t going to leave again and that you’re okay.”

“I’m a terrible son,” Yahaba said. Kyoutani shrugged. “Things won’t be the same when I knock on that door.”

“They’ll forgive you, and one day things will be normal again,” Kyoutani promised. “They can’t obsess about this forever, and then we can skip out on classes and visit each other and it’ll seem insignificant in comparison.”

_One day things will be normal again, because we’ll be together even if it’s not what they want from us. One day things will be normal again and we’ll be together even if it’s not what the world wants, and the world can shout at us all it wants, but I’ll happily watch it burn and we’ll both see things in a different way, together._

“What, because you know all about that?” Yahaba challenged, teasingly, and even if he had been serious, it would have been effective. He’d choked the words out. He hoped that Kyoutani couldn’t see that his eyes were watering.

Kyoutani laughed, and Yahaba gave him a watery smile.

“Do you think they’ll be awake?” Yahaba asked eventually. He already knew the answer. He was sure that he’d kept his parents up an unfair amount over the past week or so. Even if he’d warped their sleeping patterns into something unrecognizable, they would always be up before the sun rose, just like Yahaba.

“Yeah,” Kyoutani said. “They’ll be waiting for you.”

Yahaba inched closer to Kyoutani, and with less distance between them, he felt more free. It felt more natural to be close to Kyoutani now than it felt natural to stay far away. He’d never needed to make the distance awkward in the first place.

Having that kind of closeness with anybody else would be unsatisfactory. Yahaba had other friends, sure—he hadn’t talked to Watari in since they’d left, but he supposed that he could text him if he wanted to, when things were sorted out, and he’d been in contact with Oikawa ever since he’d picked up the captain position. But he wasn’t close to anybody, not in the way he was close to Kyoutani, and even if he did make other friends, it would feel unsatisfactory in comparison.

And he didn’t even have a label for what he had with Kyoutani.

“I’ll miss you,” Yahaba said thickly, 

“Stupid. I’m not gone yet,” Kyoutani said, and reached forward to pull Yahaba into a hug. Yahaba wrapped his arms tightly around Kyoutani in return, pressing his face against him and inhaling deeply. He willed himself not to cry—not to let Kyoutani see him cry before he left. “I’m not going away.”

_You’re not going until we end this journey, and I’m going to have to end it and make you leave._

“Please keep in touch,” Yahaba said, face buried in Kyoutani’s shoulder. “Please text me and tell me when you’re alright, or if you aren’t alright and I need to run away again and save you. I’ll do whatever it takes, I promise.”

“I will,” Kyoutani said. His grip tightened on Yahaba, and he rested his head on his. Yahaba was sure that if Kyoutani never let go, he would be fine with that, too. He felt warm and safe and dangerously comfortable, but he didn’t know how he could ever feel the same way again knowing that he’d turned away from this willingly. “Promise me the same thing, please. I couldn’t go without—”

“I will, I promise. Kyoutani—”

“Shigeru—”

Yahaba stifled a sob and tried to quell the shaking of his shoulders.

He would never forget this—the journey, Kyoutani, and most importantly, what he was feeling right now.

Yahaba wasn’t sure of who ended up pulling away first. It was a natural separation, but when Yahaba looked at Kyoutani, all he wanted was to pull him back into his arms. He’d do anything to buy more time, and he decided, belatedly, that he should have enjoyed what time they had had instead of worrying about how they were going to pull it off and if Kyoutani would hate him for it.

Kyoutani wouldn’t hate him for anything, not after he’d agreed to this.

He was so _stupid._

“Hey,” Kyoutani said, barely a whisper, drawing Yahaba back to reality. His lips were a breath away from Yahaba’s, but he looked up to meet Yahaba’s eyes steadily. His eyes were soft. Yahaba thought that he’d grown too used to that sight. “Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” Yahaba said. He curled his fingers in Kyoutani’s jacket. He tilted his head. “I did, Kyoutani, did you?”

Kyoutani didn’t answer, but Yahaba already knew what he would have said. Kyoutani leaned closer and Yahaba met him halfway, the distance between them infinitesimal. Yahaba had never kissed a boy, but it felt so natural to kiss Kyoutani, to do as he’d wanted to for so, so long. It felt hazy, somehow, and surreal—but nice, and Yahaba didn’t think that it could feel anything but nice, so he pulled Kyoutani closer and changed the angle and deepened the kiss if only to feel Kyoutani one last time.

“Don’t ever forget this,” Kyoutani murmured against his lips, and kissed him again, and again, and every time he moved closer and Yahaba met him he drew closer to breaking.

“I don’t want to go,” Yahaba said, even though he didn’t need to speak. “Thank you,” he added, and Kyoutani shook his head.

“I’ll see you soon,” Kyoutani whispered, giving Yahaba’s shoulder one last squeeze. Yahaba nodded feverishly, and as badly as he wanted to pull Kyoutani close again, he found the strength within himself to let go. “I promise,” Kyoutani said, and with that, he was gone.

Yahaba turned to look at his house again. Without thinking, he walked down the hill and to his front door. He wondered, vaguely, what his parents would say when they saw him. He’d thought over the scenario countless times in his head, but nothing he’d pictured had ever felt quite right. Nothing would feel right in reality, either, if Yahaba was to be realistic. Trembling, Yahaba raised his hand and knocked.

It was strange, really. People like him didn’t run away. They didn’t run away to escape their problems and find themselves, because they had other means to do so, means that they could accomplish on their own without a friend who was undeniably a bad influence on them. Returning home was even weirder. He could have stayed in Okinawa and never looked back, and he wouldn’t have to think about returning or his family or real life ever again.

He could easily walk away again. He could catch up to Kyoutani and tell him that he wasn’t ready and that they needed more time, but that was desperate and a disgrace and Yahaba felt sick at the very idea. It would have been the cowardly thing to do, but he could continue being selfish and do it, and have his regrets, but probably live out his life in relative peace.

But Kyoutani had left knowing what he was going to do, trusting what he was going to do, and if Yahaba walked away now, he would never be able to forgive himself.

_Kyoutani, why did you leave me?!_

Instead of turning away, he waited for his parents to find him, sobbing uncontrollably on their front steps, regretting everything and nothing.


	10. Kyoto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another late chapter, but here it is! Thank you to everyone who has supported this so far, and to everyone who has clicked on this at all, regardless of whether or not you have commented. I’m so happy that I finally found the courage to post this, and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.

“Yahaba, you really need to get out more. You go away for university and don’t even go exploring? How lame is that?”

Yahaba flipped a page in his textbook and didn’t look up. “I’ve been to Kyoto before. If you want restaurant recommendations I can give them to you already.”

Oh, right.” His roommate gave a heavy sigh, and at that, Yahaba did look up. Seeing his roommate’s shocked face whenever he realized that he was serious was always entertaining. “You came here when you ran away, right?

Yahaba shrugged. “We were here, yeah. There’s decent food if you know how to look for it.”

His roommate looked at him with wide eyes. Yahaba had told his story—what he was willing to tell, anyway, which wasn’t much—but he was still vaguely surprised every time the subject was brought up. Yahaba figured that, in different circumstances, he might have been confused if he’d been assigned to a roommate who’d run away from home. It’s not something you commonly hear about.

“What’s it like, introducing yourself and having people ask if you’re the runaway they’d seen on TV?” his roommate had asked one night, when Yahaba had cracked and told him that he could ask him all the offensive questions he’d been dying to ask since he’d recognized him as—well, the runaway he’d seen on TV.

The question had made Yahaba cringe, but he’d been expecting that, and he’d promised that he would answer even if it was unpleasant. “It’s fine, I guess. It’s more strange to think that I did it than that people know me. I guess I’m not bothered by it. I didn’t commit a crime or anything.” Yahaba shrugged, like he wasn’t bothered, even though his roommate couldn’t have phrased anything more poorly. “But we ran away, we weren’t runaways.” At the shake of his roommate’s head, Yahaba added, confusedly, “We came back, didn’t we?”

Not everyone had the same philosophy that Yahaba had, and Yahaba had been prepared for that. He’d expected the look of disgust on one classmate’s face when Yahaba had admitted to how badly he had torn up his family. He’d expected the awe from another girl, and the pity from his roommate’s best friend. He knew that others talked about him behind his back, but he wasn’t bothered by it at all.

Maybe it had stung the first time, but then he thought about what Kyoutani was probably going through, and how he must be dealing with it, and it stung a little less. Yahaba had become so immune over the past few weeks that he could think about Kyoutani in such a way. It was cruel, really,

Not like he hadn’t talked to Kyoutani since they’d parted. But never in person, never for long, and not yet like they had when they’d last been together. 

Quite simply put, Yahaba was afraid of that.

“That’s so weird,” his roommate said. He slammed his own textbook shut and gathered up his notes to put them away. Even though they’d been roommates for over a month, Yahaba didn’t think that he’d ever seen him successfully study for more than a half hour at a time. “I mean, you’ve been everywhere. People won’t travel that much of Japan in their lifetime and you did it in what? A week?”

“Nine days,” Yahaba said. His chest felt tight. He was sick of talking about it so casually, but he was well aware of the fact that some people looked upon his plight as amusing rather than something serious. Yahaba prayed that his roommate was serious about going out, because it would be a huge relief to get time alone for once.

With Kyoutani, he’d never felt alone, or ever wanted to be alone. He’d given Yahaba his space, never _distant,_ but always _there,_ when he needed him to be, and Yahaba missed it now more than ever.

Before, he hadn’t even known that Kyoutani had made him feel like that. 

“Oh. Cool.” Yahaba’s roommate shrugged. “Well, I’m going out. I’m going out with a few friends I could introduce you to, so… the offer still stands.”

Yahaba didn’t reply, until he realized that his roommate really was waiting for a response, and he shook his head. “No, I’m good. I have work to get done.”

“Suit yourself.”

Yahaba waited for the sound of his roommate’s footsteps and his characteristic slam of their door. He exhaled a sigh of relief when he realized that he was alone, and stood up from his chair to flop on his bed. Truthfully, he hadn’t been able to concentrate well for the past hour or so. His roommate didn’t have to prompt him to think about Kyoutani for him always to be on his mind, indirectly.

When Yahaba checked his phone, he was unsurprised to find a text from his mother prompting him to call soon (just to be sure that he was in Kyoto still, not Okinawa) and several passive-aggressive messages from Oikawa including a snarky reminder to drink water and eat three meals a day now that he didn’t have Kyoutani to serve him. His messages were the ones Yahaba always responded to first, these days. He’d been horrified to learn that Yahaba had run away, and ecstatic when he’d been found. He was also a hearty supporter of Yahaba and Kyoutani, although Yahaba couldn’t tell him anything new about them now.

He was also unsurprised to find that Kyoutani hadn’t messaged him. 

He wasn’t expecting it, and he wasn’t at all hurt that Kyoutani hadn’t surprised him. He hadn’t texted Kyoutani in a while, and didn’t have much of a reason to other than his own personal desire. Kyoutani had been a part of his high school life, and if they hadn’t run away together, they would have parted much longer before university. And now? Kyoutani wasn’t going to school in the same prefecture as him, and they didn’t have much in common. They were being held together by their own feelings, at this point, and little else.

But Yahaba still missed him and, traitorously, wanted him badly.

Yahaba sighed, and tossed his phone down. The transition to college hadn’t been hard due to the independence he’d picked up when travelling with Kyoutani. The transition back to regular life—despite not being gone for a really long time—had been harder. Even though he was away from home and didn’t have anyone to really look after him, others still had more control over him than he’d gotten comfortable with. He and Kyoutani had been untouchable, in a way, when they’d run, but now they both had obligations.

Yahaba wondered briefly if he should ask Oikawa for advice. He’d been trying to get Yahaba to contact Kyoutani seriously ever since he’d heard about them, and Oikawa knew more than anyone about what they were to each other. Oikawa would be thrilled that Yahaba was even considering it. Yahaba didn’t want to disappoint him.

And social media—Yahaba had attention to deal with there, too, from relatives he hadn’t seen in years to high school friends, when they’d realized what Yahaba had done. Yahaba hadn’t realized that so many people would know, or that the influence from his actions would be so widespread, and he felt silly for not thinking of it before. At the same time, he felt more mature than he should be. He struggled to fit in with his old friends, and to really connect with new ones (mostly made for him by his roommate, because Yahaba ended up dealing with them all at one point or another), with this gap.

People looked at him differently, after he had run.

Kyoutani had filled a gap in Yahaba’s life that was impossible to replace, and while it wasn’t completely bare now, it was still strange, not having him around physically. He’d gotten used to Kyoutani’s presence, and it had touched every aspect of his daily life for nine days straight, so intimately. Yahaba wouldn’t forget—he wouldn’t forget everything Kyoutani had given him, how surreal it felt to return to normal, and what he’d learned.

It was definitely painful. Yahaba felt that he didn’t deserve to ask for more after he’d taken so much, but he wanted Kyoutani. He couldn’t ask for Kyoutani. That was impossible. He couldn’t ask for a person who was already right there.

Yahaba turned on his phone to check the time. It was still fairly early. Yahaba couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten anything. He should probably heed Oikawa’s advice, but his school work was also calling to him. He also hadn’t taken a break in hours, or communicated with anybody but his roommate, properly, in days. His roommate talked to him because he was curious, grossly fascinated with his mistakes. Yahaba couldn’t blame him. And his professors didn’t count either, and he didn’t have real friends in Kyoto.

It had been nice to simply exist for a while. To live, and to travel, and feel. Anybody who didn’t get to experience that in their lifetime, Yahaba felt sorry for. Anybody who didn’t get to experience that in their lifetime alongside someone they held close to them was even more unfortunate. 

_Kyoutani doesn’t need you to be articulate. He’ll appreciate you thinking of him, just as he always has. Nothing is going to change if neither or us does something. We’re not avoiding anything, I don’t think. We just don’t fit into each other’s lives the way we used to anymore, and neither of us anticipated that._

Yahaba grimaced. He picked up his phone again, considering. And then he unlocked it faster than he would have formerly believed humanly possible, scrolling through his contacts and opening up a new text message.

_But who said that something like that was going to keep me away from Kyoutani?_

“How are you?” Yahaba typed. He stared at the message, thumb hovering over “Send.” He erased the sentence, rephrased it, deleted it, and rewrote it again. And then he sent it, before he could back out of it. Considering how long it had been since they’d last talked, it wasn’t satisfactory enough. But Kyoutani didn’t need anything fancy.

Kyoutani didn’t need him to have an explanation. He’d been with him as he’d explored the world and found himself, and there was no way one could possibly get closer to a person. He had understood what Yahaba had needed before he had known it himself, and Yahaba knew him the same way. 

After all, a person didn’t travel a country to discover themself with just anybody.

 _Call me?_ Kyoutani responded, less than a full minute after Yahaba had sent the text.

Yahaba smiled, tapped on his contact again, and called him. He had no qualms about getting right to the point, even though it had been a while. And it had been so long since he’d spoken to Kyoutani, and he missed him, every part of him, his voice, his—

Kyoutani picked up immediately, and relief washed over Yahaba so quickly he felt as though the breath had been knocked out of him.

“I missed you so much,” Yahaba said, without waiting for Kyoutani’s greeting. His voice cracked, and he was probably crying, but he wasn’t sad. He hadn’t planned on spilling everything to Kyoutani the moment he picked up, but he knew that Kyoutani wouldn’t judge him for it. “We need to see each other again soon. You know, I’d even run away for that.”

“Shigeru,” Kyoutani said, and he sounded light and happy, and Yahaba’s smile grew into a grin. “You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice.”

**Author's Note:**

> Updates will be on Tuesdays and Saturdays!


End file.
